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Tuesday, March 13, 2012

An Inspiring Tale of Youth Empowerment

An Inspiring
Tale

of Youth
Empowerment

‘I shall always
remember one particular Youth Day when I was at Decay Secondary School,’ said
Kupela. ‘The headmaster announced that the Ministry wanted a girl from our
school to read a speech to the president. He called for a debate amongst all
the girls, and said that we could choose the best speaker. I really thought I could win!’

‘But you didn't,’ said Sara.

‘I lost out to a girl called Wandimi Shibili. She got the loudest applause.’

‘Was she really
a good speaker?’

‘She had a very
crafty strategy,’ said Kupela. ‘The day before the debate she went around the
school asking everybody what they thought our problems were. The next day she told
everybody what they had told her, and loudly demanded action from the
government.’

‘Yes,’ said Sara
impatiently, ‘but what did she actually say?’

‘Difficult to
remember after all these years,’ laughed Kupela. ‘But it was quite simple
really. She said that we youths were fed up with being blamed for being undisciplined
and playful, which was the opposite of the truth. It was the government that
had destroyed the schools, which had no books, and the teachers were either
absent or drunk, or both. There were no jobs for us because the government has destroyed
the economy with incompetence and theft. They had destroyed our manufacturing
industry by removing import duty. There was no employment policy, and instead
jobs were being given to foreigners.’

‘I suppose that
went down well,’ I said.

‘How we all
cheered! You go and tell them! We
shouted. Wandimi for president!’

‘And did you
join the march?’

‘The whole
school joined the march!’ laughed Kupela. ‘We all wanted to hear Wandimi tell
the president what we thought of him and his rotten government!’

‘And was the
president shocked? Did they try to stop her? What happened?’

‘What happened,’
said Kupela sadly, ‘was that she walked to the microphone and said the opposite
of what she had said to us. She said that we youth were too playful, but now we
promised to work hard and follow the fine example of our dear president. We
were so grateful to him for building more schools, and for the youth training
schemes, and we would work hard to benefit from his generosity. We would now
stop asking the government for help, but only ask how we could help our
government.’

‘So she said the
exact opposite!’ I exclaimed.

‘She had changed
her strategy,’ Sara suggested.

‘Of course she
hadn’t changed her strategy! She had used exactly the same strategy, which was
to tell her listeners what they wanted to hear. So the day before her speech
she visited the permanent secretary at the Ministry of Youth and Sport, and
asked him what the government wanted her to say. So he wrote down the main
points on a piece of paper, and that was her speech.’

‘Half a minute,’
I said. ‘Most of her listeners were the youths, not the permanent secretary!’

‘She stopped
caring about us,’ laughed Kupela, ‘as soon as we had done our job of voting her
as our spokesperson.’

‘So what benefit
did she get from her betrayal?’

‘She was given a
bursary to go to Yunza. Nobody else in her class got into Yunza because their
parents were too poor.’

‘Quite a smart
cookie,’ I admitted. ‘And did she do well at Yunza?’

‘Extremely well,’
said Kupela. ‘She soon found a sugar daddy who installed her in a nice little flat
in Kabulonga. So she had enough money to buy the exam papers in advance.’

‘She was
cheating!’ exclaimed Sara.

‘The teaching in
these places is so bad,’ Kupela explained, ‘that the only effective way to
prepare for an exam is to get the paper in advance. So she got a good degree in
medicine, specializing in geriatrics.’

‘So now at last
she was in a position to do something for her country?’

‘Good gracious
no,’ laughed Kupela, ‘she went off to California, and got a job there.’

‘I’m sure she’ll
come back one day,’ said Sara, ‘and make an invaluable contribution to our
health service.’

‘I don’t think
so,’ laughed Kupela. ‘She hadn’t been in California six months before she
married an 80 year-old multi-millionare who had made his money running brothels
in Las Vegas.’

‘Why did he want
to marry Wandimi? Was she very beautiful?’

‘No, face like
the back of a bus. But she told him what he wanted to hear. She told him that she
was a geriatric medical specialist, and that she could restore his health and
vitality. She promised him that within 90 days he would be a young man again.’

‘And did it
work?’

‘It did for her.
Within 90 days he was dead, and she was a multi-millionaire.’

‘So what’s she
doing now?’

‘Two years ago
she bought herself a senate seat, and this year she’s contesting the Republican
primaries and hoping to run against Obama in the coming presidential election.’

‘Still the same
campaign strategy?’ wondered Sara.

‘Oh yes. The
previous night she asks them what they want, and the next morning she tells
them that she’s knows their problems, and she’ll solve everything.’

‘So by next
year,’ I said, ‘she may be the first female Zambian president!’